


any way you want it (that's the way you need it)

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [128]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/F, First Time, Fluff, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: “Lydia told me that communication is the key to good sex. I don’t want to hurt you or waste your time doing something you won’t like. So I thought you could show me what youdolike.”Or, Malia wants to know how to make Kira feel good. The obvious solution is to watch her masturbate.





	any way you want it (that's the way you need it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aweekofsaturdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aweekofsaturdays/gifts).



> written for the prompt "Malia making Kira masturbate for her, so she can see what Kira likes."
> 
> Title from [Any Way You Want It](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIZCCATZTRE), which is originally by Journey, but I've linked to the Rise Against version because I like it better.
> 
> this takes place around the same time as season 4.

“How do you masturbate?”

Kira is in the middle of raising a shrimp chip to her mouth when Malia speaks, and she pauses to glance at her girlfriend, who is sitting cross legged at the foot of her bed, surrounded by textbooks and scrawled pages of notes. 

“What?” 

“How do you masturbate?” Malia repeats, not a shred of embarrassment on her face. “If we’re going to be having sex, I want to know what you like first. I want to know how to make you feel good.” 

“Oh,” Kira says, her cheeks flushing with warmth. She’s been dating for a month, and while they’ve made out countless times, they haven’t done anything beyond sliding their hands up each other’s shirts. Kira would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about going further, but she’d wanted to wait a little longer, until they were no longer swamped with schoolwork and exam preparation. 

Before she can say anything further, Malia frowns a little and leans in closer. 

“Wait, _do_ you masturbate? It’s fine if you don’t. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“No, I do!” Kira hurriedly replies. “I do. You just surprised me.”

Malia shrugs and steals one of Kira’s shrimp chips. 

“Lydia told me that communication is the key to good sex. I don’t want to hurt you or waste your time doing something you won’t like. So I thought you could show me what you _do_ like.” Now that the surprise of the question has worn off a little, Kira has to admit that there’s sound logic behind it. While her own sexual experience is greatly limited, she’s overheard enough stories in the hallways and classrooms, recounts of wince-worthy encounters that might have been a little less wince-worthy with some communication. 

“Can I have a few days?” she asks. “I need some time to think it over.” 

“Yeah,” Malia says, shoving her hand back into the bag of chips. “Just let me know when you’re ready. If you’re never ready, that’s okay too.” 

Kira knows how difficult it still is for Malia to be patient, but she doesn’t sound the least bit frustrated or annoyed. When she’s done filling her palm with chips, she glances up and smiles; the action is still a little unpracticed, but it’s _genuine_ , and before Malia can pop a chip into her mouth, Kira leans in and kisses her. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, bumping her nose against Malia’s. In return, Malia shifts and rubs her cheek against Kira’s.

“You’re welcome.”

&. 

Kira takes a week to think things over.

She doesn’t spend the _whole_ time weighing the pros or cons, determining if she’s ready or not; she has a mountain of assignments to work on and lacrosse practice to go to, so most of her thinking is done at night, when she’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling or out the window. She doesn’t want to rush herself into a decision; she can’t imagine anything more embarrassing than committing to showing Malia how she likes to touch herself, only to back out at the very last moment. 

She knows that Malia wouldn’t hold it against her in a thousand years, but _still_. 

But as the days go by, the odds of that scenario occurring start to lower. After all, showing Malia how she likes to be touched doesn’t have to turn into sex. She can still take her time on getting to that step. 

So the Friday after Malia first raises the question, Kira approaches her in the hallway at the end of the day while Malia is roughly shoving her already-battered textbooks into her locker. 

“I’m done thinking it over,” she says before she can lose her nerve. For a moment, Malia’s brow furrows with confusion, but eventually, recognition dawns on her face, and her mouth turns up in a small smile. 

“Yeah?” Kira nods and reaches out to take Malia’s hand. 

“I want to show you. If you still want to watch.” The words are barely out of Kira’s mouth before Malia starts nodding, smile stretching wider. 

“Tonight? My dad won’t be home until nine. You can stay over if you want.” 

A rush of giddy nervousness floods through Kira’s system as she nods and squeezes Malia’s hand tighter. She can’t help but notice how much longer Malia’s fingers are than her own, and she bites her lip to avoid accidentally sighing at the thought of them sliding inside of her.

She’s still not quite ready for that, but she’s more than happy to think about it. 

“I’ll ask my dad,” she sighs, leaning up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss. “Hopefully I’ll see you in a bit.” 

“I really hope so,” Malia murmurs against Kira’s mouth.

&.

Thankfully, neither of her parents kick up much of a fuss over the plan, although her mother does fix her with a single raised eyebrow that manages to silently say a dozen different things at once.

Kira tries not to show how affected she is by it, but she’s fairly certain that she fails spectacularly. 

Once she’s packed an overnight bag, her dad ferries her over to Malia’s house. Malia is waiting for her on the porch swing and, before her dad’s car is even out of sight, Malia wraps her arms around Kira’s waist and pulls her into a kiss that succeeds in rendering Kira breathless. 

“Hey,” she says once she’s loosened her grip a little. 

“Hey,” Kira responds, bumping her nose against Malia’s. Shouldering her bag, she follows Malia inside and kicks her shoes off near the door. As they ascend the stairs, Malia doesn’t let go of Kira’s hand, and Kira distracts herself from the nerves fluttering in her stomach by brushing her thumb over Malia’s knuckles. 

While Malia’s room is still a bit of a mess, with piles of clothes drifted in the corners and torn scraps of paper littering her desk, it’s obvious that she made an effort to clean. The air smells like Febreeze, the bed is made, and the empty water bottles that usually litter the space have been removed. Kira drops her bag on the floor, out of the way, and settles on the edge of the bed. Malia doesn’t join her right away; she glances around the room, frowning slightly, arms crossed over her chest. 

“I wasn’t sure if there was anything else you needed,” she says. “To be comfortable, I mean. There’s a box of tissues under the bed. And cookies downstairs for after, if you want them.” 

Kira’s heart swells with fondness. 

“Tissues and cookies are great,” she says, patting the bed beside her. “I don’t need anything else.” She thought about bringing one of the toys she’s surreptitiously purchased using Amazon gift cards, but in the end, she’d decided on just tucking a small bottle of lube into her bag. Sure, maybe they’ll work up to using toys on each other one day, but Malia asked how to make Kira feel good, and Kira doesn’t want to pressure Malia into thinking she needs toys to get her off. 

Malia sinks down into the mattress beside her and rests one hand on Kira’s knee, just below the hem of her skirt.

“How do you want to do this?” she asks. Kira takes a moment to mull it over before she shrugs. She doesn’t want things to be too clinical, too planned out; that’s just bound to make her feel even more awkward. 

“How about we kiss first and then decide?”

“I can work with that,” Malia answers and, before Kira can get a chance to say anything further, Malia falls backwards onto the mattress and moves until she’s lying properly, hair splayed across the pillows. Her shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a strip of tan skin that Kira very much wants to run her fingers over. When Kira doesn’t move immediately, Malia raises an eyebrow, as if to say _coming?_

That sets Kira in motion. 

They kiss for what feels like hours, the sun gradually sinking lower and lower. Even as the evening grows cool, even after she takes a deep breath and yanks her shirt over her head, Kira feels like she’s burning hot. Each of Malia’s touches seems to linger long after she’s moved on to another spot, and Kira is painfully aware of how wet she is. When she rolls her hips down slightly, trying to relieve some of the ache between her thighs, Malia groans and tightens her fingers on Kira’s waist, presses her face into the junction of Kira’s shoulder and neck. 

“You smell _amazing_.” 

That gives Kira the last boost of confidence she needs. 

“I’m ready,” she sighs. Malia pulls back, cheeks flushed red, and brushes a piece of Kira’s hair away from her face. 

“You sure?” Kira nods and Malia sits up, until Kira is astride her lap. “Okay. Where should I go?” Kira gnaws on her lip for a moment as she runs over the possibilities. Eventually, she settles on the one that will give Malia the better view, allow her to best see what Kira is doing to herself.

“Can you sit at the end of the bed?” Malia doesn’t answer; she just flips Kira onto her back so quickly that Kira yelps. Before she can get herself orientated again, Malia does what she asked. 

“This okay?” Kira nods and slides back up a little, until her neck and head are supported by the pillows. 

“Can you reach in the side pocket of my bag? There’s a bottle of lube in there.” Based on the pulsing heat she can already feel between her thighs, she doesn’t think she’ll need it, but better safe than sorry. While Malia leans over the edge of the bed to grab Kira’s bag, Kira takes a deep, grounding breath, hooks her fingers into her waistband and tugs all of her layers down to her ankles. She tosses her intertwined clothes to the side and lays back down, cool air brushing against her warm core, naked except for her bra. 

Malia’s shoulders abruptly stiffen, and she slowly turns around, fingers clasping the bottle of lube. Her eyes flicker bright electric blue, and her nostrils flare as she climbs back up onto the bed and sets the bottle beside Kira’s hip. As she leans back to return to her former position, she drags one finger down Kira’s leg, from her thigh down to her ankle. 

Kira shudders and splays her legs open a little further. She feels completely and utterly exposed, but it’s easier to deal with than she expected. 

“You can stop whenever you want,” Malia says, voice rougher than usual, like she just spent hours howling at the moon. She brushes one thumb against Kira’s foot, hard enough for it to not tickle. 

“Okay,” Kira says, dropping her head back against the pillows and closing her eyes. She can still feel Malia’s gaze burning into her, warming her entire body. She takes another deep breath to steady her nerves and slides one hand down her torso, over her stomach, and between her legs. As soon as her fingers brush over her clit, wet enough that lube won’t be necessary, the muscles in her thighs twitch, and Malia groans quietly. 

“I don’t usually take too long,” Kira says through a gasp. She opens her legs a little further so that she can accommodate her other hand between her legs as well.

“That’s okay,” Malia says. “Just show me how you make yourself come.”

Kira nearly chokes on a moan.

She decides not to drag it out; after a moment of teasing, she slides two of her fingers inside of herself. There’s barely any resistance; the hint of stretch that is there is wholly pleasant, and she finds herself canting her hips up so that it’s easier to curl her fingertips towards the bundle of nerves that makes her see stars.

“I’m doing this,” she pants, demonstrating the _come-hither_ movement with her other hand before she places her fingers back on her clit. She opens her eyes briefly, just in time to see Malia nod and dig her fingers into her knees.

“Okay.”

There’s not much else that Kira wants to show her technique-wise, so she simply slumps back against the pillows and lets herself sink into the moment. She doesn’t thrust her fingers in and out; she simply curls them over and over again, dragging them over her g-spot. With her other hand, she circles her clit, increasing the pressure as time goes on. The slick sounds of her own wetness seem impossibly loud, and another flood of warmth soaks through her. She doesn’t exaggerate her gasps and moans, but she doesn’t hold back either; she makes as much noise as she does when she has the house to herself. 

Her orgasm builds quickly, almost too quickly, but before she can even think about maybe trying to edge herself, it’s too late. Spasms of pleasure course through her as she clenches down around her own fingers. Her hips arch off the bed, and her toes curl against the mattress.

Once it’s physically painful to continue touching herself, she flutters her eyes open and slides her fingers out. Before she can wipe them on the inside of her thighs, Malia presses a clump of tissues into her hand.

Her eyes are still blue. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” she says. Her gaze is on Kira’s face, which Kira is grateful for; cleaning her fingers off is awkward enough, let alone the rest of her. “I can’t wait until I can make you feel that good.” There’s no impatience in her tone, no hint that she’s trying to rush Kira and, not for the first time, Kira finds herself falling just a little bit harder in love. 

“Soon,” she murmurs. Once she’s done cleaning herself off, she tosses the tissues into the garbage beside Malia’s bed and untangles her underwear from the rest of her clothes. She’s still too hot to put the rest of her layers back on, and based on how Malia is still staring at her like she’s witnessed something truly astounding, Kira doesn’t think she has to worry about being self-conscious. Curling up onto her side, she reaches out and tugs Malia closer, until they’re nose to nose. 

“Could you show me?” she asks, smoothing her thumb along Malia’s hip. “How you touch yourself, I mean.” Malia nods and brushes her lips against Kira’s. 

“In a bit. After cookies, if you still want them.” Kira laughs and lets her forehead rest against Malia’s. 

“Cookies would be _great_.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
